


lightless

by aeits



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9635369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeits/pseuds/aeits
Summary: “is there a reason for the cardiac gymnastics?” yahaba asks softly, brows furrowing a bit. “are you okay?”kentarou lifts a lazy finger, stroking the skin of yahaba’s wrist.“i’m happy,” he says. and he also means ‘i love you’.





	

at age seven, kentarou moves for the first time.

his father is relocated due to a better job offer and takes his family along. it’s in the middle of the school year meaning kentarou has the be the new kid.

to make matters worse, the week before, kentarou loses two of his front teeth and he’s determined not to smile until they grow back. he asks his mother if the tooth fairy takes letters like santa does. she answers with a laugh.

kentarou stands awkwardly in front of his soon to be classmates while the teacher introduces him. he’s never liked being the centre of attention for too long.

the seat he picks is next to a boy who glances at kentarou throughout the lesson like he doesn’t think he’ll be noticed. his eyes are big and curious.

it isn’t until the bell rings for lunch that he announces his name is yahaba shigeru and pulls his chair closer to kentarou’s desk.

•••

kentarou’s love for volleyball bursts to life when he’s ten.

he gets dragged to a match against his will but ends up on the edge of his seat watching it play out. later that evening, he begs for his own ball so he can start learning the basics of the game.

“huh,” yahaba says after listening to his friend talk in earnest about the sport. kentarou kicks his feet, frowning at the lackluster response he gets. yahaba tells him to cut it out before he makes his shoes dirty.

“maybe if you saw,” kentarou huffs, “you’d think it was really cool.”

yahaba shrugs which makes kentarou’s frown deepen.

asking his father to bring the other boy and convincing yahaba’s parents to let him tag along is worth it once he sees how enraptured yahaba is.

“you were right,” yahaba says, turning to kentarou with a look of awe. he grins in triumph.

•••

the day after yahaba’s twelfth birthday, kentarou learns they won’t be going to the same middle school.

it’s unfair that, come april, his (best) friend will be in another region of the country. unfair that they practised so hard only to be separated. unfair that yahaba is forced to break the promise he made and _does this mean you’re not going to be my friend anymore?_

kentarou finds it utterly unfair that his chest feels way too small for his heart these days.

they spend the spring break going back and forth between their houses. sleepovers and afternoon practices because they want to squeeze in as much fun as they can. yahaba sports more bandages than usual from time spent playing in the park.

their mothers probably tire of having to chastise them about being careful. truth be told, kentarou figured out long ago that yahaba has never been careful a day in his life. he’s much too bright to be held by restrictions. yahaba smiles even though the scrape on his knee definitely hurts. he stands and takes off, running faster. kentarou stumbles as he tries to keep up.

the sun is setting on the last full day they have together. by the time kentarou wakes tomorrow, yahaba will be well on his way to his new home. their house right now looks skeletal with all the pictures packed away.

the two are sprawled out in the grass in yahaba’s backyard, kentarou’s volleyball lying between them. yahaba sounds stuffy and kentarou knows he’s trying hard not to cry.

“hey,” he sits up, looking down at yahaba still stretched out.

rubbing at his eyes, yahaba joins him. there are blades of grass in his hair. kentarou feels his throat go tight and he attempts to commit the image to memory.

“here,” he grabs the volleyball and puts it in yahaba’s lap.

the other boy looks shocked, staring at the volleyball then at kentarou in question. kentarou scratches his arm. “i want you to keep it.”

yahaba’s eyes get glassy. kentarou says ‘don’t cry’ and the boy beside him insists he isn’t when they both know that’s an obvious lie.

“promise me something,” kentarou starts after yahaba is done sniffling. “and don’t break it this time.”

yahaba sticks his tongue out. “fine.”

“promise you won’t forget about me,” kentarou mumbles, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

there’s a beat of silence followed by yahaba holding his pinky up. “you gotta promise the same.”

kentarou gives a firm nod, linking his finger with yahaba’s own. they hold it for a minute. or five. kentarou can’t remember. their hug at the end of dinner seems twice as long.

•••

yahaba stands on the other side of the net when kentarou is fifteen.

the prospect of a training camp was interesting in theory. it became infinitely more interesting the moment their team captain mentioned the high schools they’d be playing against. a buzz of excitement sits beneath kentarou’s skin in the days leading up to the trip.

seeing yahaba in the flesh instead of behind a screen is a shock to his system. along with it comes an onslaught of unbidden emotions kentarou has to push in his pile of things to sort out later. he chooses to settle on the joy he feels when yahaba’s eyes meet his.

they don’t face each other on the first day so he gets a chance to observe yahaba as a setter while he’s sat on the bench. kentarou almost smiles at how much he’s improved.

yahaba finds him when his team is heading to the dining hall. they nearly topple over when yahaba crashes into him.

“you gonna cry?” kentarou asks mainly as a joke except yahaba isn’t letting go and kentarou kind of doesn’t want him to.

“no,” yahaba says like he’s trying to convince himself and finally steps back.

they take their time catching up with the rest of the group and yahaba talks a mile a minute because between school and volleyball, it’s been a month since they actually talked. years since they’ve done it face to face yet it still feels the same.

yahaba goes off to tell his team he’ll be sitting elsewhere and kentarou pretends not to hear the ‘friend of yours’ comment one of the second years directs to him.

instead, he ends up focusing on the fact that yahaba hasn’t changed one bit. he doesn’t seem to mind kentarou’s short replies and fills in the gaps as he sees fit. he even pulls the other first year into a discussion that’s slowly escalating into an argument like all their discussions do.

“this is ridiculous,” kentarou snaps. “just admit i’m right and-”

“first, i’m always right,” yahaba cuts in, leaning slightly across the table. “second, was that a lisp?”

the tips of kentarou’s ears go pink while yahaba seems absolutely delighted by the concept of his best friend having braces.

(“i’ll miss you,” yahaba admits before kentarou has to board the bus and head home.

“call more often then.”

the ‘i'll miss you too’ is unsaid but yahaba smiles regardless.)

•••

after eighteen years, kentarou has never been this mad.

yachi hitoka is quite possibly the sweetest girl he’s ever met. she’s demure and tiny and still wears her hair in pigtails with cute little clips. sometimes her voice goes high when she’s nervous and she’s so easily flustered, it’s somewhat laughable. her smiles are uplifting and her laughs even more so.

his blood boils every time he sees yahaba hold her hand.

“you aren’t being subtle you know?” watari, a mutual friend, chimes in when yahaba goes in search of another textbook.

they’re in the library today and kentarou struggles to get through his problem sets because yahaba is a big enough distraction on his own. he’s a greater distraction each time his knee bumps kentarou’s.

kentarou gives watari a blank look and the other boy sighs while spinning his pencil between his fingers. “if you like yahaba-”

“what?” kentarou says a little too loudly. “i don’t- it’s-” watari arches a brow. kentarou takes a breath. “he’s dating yachi.”

watari squints. “can’t use that excuse forever.”

biting back his retort, kentarou glares at his incomplete work until yahaba returns. he wonders how watari sees it but yahaba remains oblivious.

•••

“god,” kentarou breathes against yahaba’s throat on the night he turns twenty.

they’re sober for once because kentarou wanted to stay in this year. yahaba invites himself over anyways carrying a mini cake with a candle stuck in the middle. he lights it and gives in when yahaba tells him to make a wish.

“what did you wish for?” yahaba questions as soon as the flame is blown out.

kentarou reaches up and pushes a lock of yahaba’s hair out of his face. his hand lingers there. and it is shaking. _he_ is shaking.

( _i wish you would notice._ )

realisation flickers across yahaba’s face then is replaced by what kentarou hopes and wishes and dreams is the same look mirrored in his own eyes.

“kentarou,” yahaba whispers. it’s soft and filled with things kentarou can’t begin to decipher but he knows he likes the sound of it. kentarou rushes to kiss him; it’s uncoordinated but he couldn’t care less.

he has yahaba pressed to his mattress, hands exploring every inch of skin they can find because yahaba surely didn’t waste time slipping out of his shirt. kentarou lifts his head and kisses his jaw, his cheek, his nose.

“what are you doing?” yahaba's cheeks are flushed.

“enjoying you,” kentarou kisses yahaba the way he wants. unhurried but practised. with ease as if they’ve been doing this for ages.

yahaba allows him to move however he pleases, never leaving an inch of space between them. he moans and sighs, soft sounds as kentarou takes him apart piece by piece.

when they’ve recovered, bodies cooling and hearts returning to normal speed, yahaba curls himself around kentarou.

“my actual gift is gonna be such a disappointment now…”

kentarou uses yahaba's shoulder to muffle his laugh.

•••

when kentarou is twenty-three, he thinks he’d rather be with yahaba for the rest of his life.

yahaba lays his head on kentarou’s lap, humming a low tune. he runs his fingers along kentarou’s jawline causing him to stare down. yahaba guides his face lower until their lips meet.

he looks exhausted from the new job he has. kentarou suggests turning in for an early night. yahaba refuses and simply lies there.

“stubborn,” kentarou says, hand moving through yahaba’s hair.

his boyfriend yawns. “yeah,” yahaba grins up at him. “but you’re stuck with me.”

kentarou huffs, “tragic.”

yahaba lets out a short laugh. a minute later, he’s succumbing to the fatigue. kentarou watches him for a while longer.

(the morning he wakes holding yahaba in their shared home is monumental. his heartbeat takes up a new rhythm while yahaba moves his perpetually cold feet along kentarou’s legs.

yahaba blinks into wakefulness, a palm pressed against his face.

“is there a reason for the cardiac gymnastics?” yahaba asks softly, brows furrowing a bit. “are you okay?”

kentarou lifts a lazy finger, stroking the skin of yahaba’s wrist.

“i’m happy,” he says. and he also means ‘i love you’.)

“shigeru,” kentarou rouses yahaba from his light sleep. “come on, let’s go to bed.”

“carry me,” yahaba whines.

kentarou barely gets the ‘no’ out when yahaba adjusts himself and locks his arms around kentarou’s neck. he already has a knee on each side of kentarou’s hips. he sighs in content once kentarou begins to pick him up.

yahaba is half asleep by the time they actually make it to bed. “ken.”

“yes?”

he waits for a response that never comes as yahaba’s breath evens out in slumber. kentarou rolls his eyes.

•••

shigeru is twenty-four and he’s cold.

there had been rain on and off all week. someone threw a blanket over him but he can’t remember who. it doesn’t stop the chill.

he fiddles with the velvet box in his hands, too afraid to open it. he’d found it earlier that afternoon, not surprised in the least because kyoutani wasn’t the type to pick brilliant hiding spots.

“be home soon,” is the first and last promise kyoutani breaks and shigeru is so cold, he can hardly hold himself together.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm only semi-proud of this for multiple reasons.


End file.
